


Speaking in Code

by ronandhermy



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M, filler fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:05:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronandhermy/pseuds/ronandhermy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A filler fic for 3x11 and a look into the boys heads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speaking in Code

They gripped each other tight, neither one willing to let the other one go. Hard enough to bruise. Days later, Mickey would like awake, his back turned towards his new wife, and he would push down—hard—on those bruises. He tried to keep them fresh. Keep them as a reminder that he once had something worth having.

For now though, in the dank basement of that shitty hall, they two broken boys who were pretending to be men, clung to one another. They tore at each other’s clothes, so much like the first time that Ian could almost pretend they were back to those simple times. Well, simpler. Nothing was ever simple when a Milkovich, a Gallagher and feelings got involved. Someone was bound to get hurt. Didn’t stop it from happening anyway.

They refused to stop touching each other and Mickey wanted to be consumed by this red head. He wanted Gallagher to devour him, eat him up until nothing but the bare whisper of his name remained on Ian’s mouth. If he could disappear, fade away, then he could pretend nothing had happened. That things hadn’t changed. That things were the way they were supposed to be before…well, before all that.

Ian would not let go. He refused to, gripping the back of Mickey’s head, his fingers running through the slightly greasy black hair, and clutching the older boy’s hip. He would crush him, break him, that way he couldn’t run. He couldn’t leave him. Not again. And then, once Mickey couldn’t move, then they could finally talk about all of this shit.

Mickey bit down his moans even as he tried to forget the reason he had to do so. Because of his dad, because of his dad’s friends, his soon to be wife, all of them sitting up above him as he was rutted in the asshole by this punk from the neighborhood. And God, did he love being rutted. Made to feel owned by someone who didn’t want to own him, but just wanted to be with him. And the great tragedy was that it was selfish to want that, because to want that was to invite death in, in the form of a bullet to the back of the head or a beat down under the L.

Ian tried to tell himself that this was okay. Things would be fine now. They were on the same page. Mickey wanted to be him, Ian wanted to be with Mickey. So why couldn’t they be together if they just tried hard enough? And Ian bit down on Mickey’s lip hard enough to draw blood, just the barest prick, and he drank it in along with the dark haired boy’s sighs and groans.

Mickey kept his mouth firmly attached to Ian’s, neither of them pulling back. For all that time denying it, it was so easy once he’d given in. It was just a kiss. And Mickey couldn’t even believe his own lie. It was an entire fucking conversation, spoken in silence and heard by a wistful heart.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

_Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me._

Except they were saying different things.

_Don’t…_


End file.
